


Hot In The City

by mickeym



Category: Popslash
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Time, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-07
Updated: 2007-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-09 05:30:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/83554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickeym/pseuds/mickeym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The beach is hot tonight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot In The City

Hot night, even on the beach.

JC makes his way slowly down to the water's edge, hoping to catch a breeze coming in off the ocean. He's not holding his breath, but maybe.

He's also not really expecting Ricky -- if that's actually his name -- to show up tonight. Just because he's the hottest guy JC's seen cruising this area in ages and he seemed to dig JC, and it would be like Christmas, his birthday and winning the lottery all in one, no, JC isn't expecting it. A guy that hot? He had his coffee and he's long gone by now.

JC closes his eyes for a minute, thinking about the meeting earlier in the evening. Hot guy flashing him a blindingly white smile over a cup of coffee. He couldn't see the guy's eyes, hidden behind mirrored shades that made JC think of aviator glasses. It wasn't until JC was sitting down beside him, his own iced coffee in hand, that the guy took his glasses off and said, "Hey, Guapo."

JC's mom raised him to be polite, but also hello, hot guy sorta-cruising him? Oh, yeah. He smiled back and said, "Hey, yourself."

"I'm Ricky," the guy said, dark brown eyes warm and inviting. JC thought about falling into them and figured he wouldn't even notice if he drowned.

"Dude, I'm JC," he finally said, and rolled his eyes at himself. He was pretty horribly out of practice at this whole chatting-with-gorgeous-guys thing.

They chatted about this and that for about fifteen minutes; chit-chat about music, books and the beach that made JC wonder if he read the first signals wrong. Then Ricky stood up and said he had an appointment he couldn't miss, couldn't be late for, and did JC want to meet him later, maybe for dinner or drinks?

"Yeah, sure, cat." JC shaded his eyes against the sun and tipped his head toward the beach. "There's a little place further down, on the beach. Semi-private; you gotta know someone to get in, and I do, so we can, if you want. They do food and stuff, and it'll be quieter ."

"Sounds good," Ricky said, and his voice washed over JC, slow and rich like warm honey. "See you about eight?"

"That's good, yeah." JC smiled. "You familiar with South Beach? It's about six blocks from here; you can see it from the sidewalk. There's no sign--"

"Not familiar, no." Ricky glanced at his watch then back down at JC. "Meet me down there--" He pointed toward the sandy area in front of them, awash in golden skin and tiny swatches of bright cloth against a backdrop of brilliant blue. "Okay?"

"Okay." JC nodded, then watched Ricky head toward an absolutely gorgeous bike, all gleaming chrome and shiny paint that Chris would've sold his soul for. Whoa. Hey, he could be a biker babe. That'd work.

And now it's about a quarter past eight, with no Ricky in sight, and that's just JC's luck, lately. Or always, practically. He's had shit for luck with guys for awhile, now.

It's nice out here, though, even with it hot as sin. The crowd's thinned out, the sun-worshipers giving up for the day. The sun's down, finally, and there's a bit of a breeze coming in off the water. When JC closes his eyes he hears the gentle slap of water against the shore and can almost imagine he hears the faint hum of music coming from Chris's place.

"Hey, Guapo." The greeting is quiet, liquid heat trickling over JC. He turns his head and smiles.

"You're late, cat."

"Lo siento. My appointment ran over." Ricky sits down beside him on the sand, jeans and biker boots as out of place here as JC's flip-flops would be up north. He wants to lean into Ricky and soak up the heat he can practically feel coming off him.

"We can go eat, if you're hungry?"

"Not really hungry," Ricky says, his voice a low purr that melds with the sound of the ocean. "Not for food, anyway."

Okay, whoa, seriously. Maybe his luck is turning around. JC swallows and shifts closer. "Food can wait, man, I'm good with that."

"Bueno." Ricky pushes against JC's shoulder; not hard, just a nudge, and he lays back, pulling Ricky with him. He's as warm as JC imagined earlier, and JC can feel hard muscle flexing beneath the tight white t-shirt when he smoothes his hands down over Ricky's back. Ricky nuzzles JC's neck, breathes in deeply before muttering, "you smell good, Guapo. Kinda wanna take a bite."

"Go ahead," JC whispers, tilting his head back. Ricky nips at his throat, up and down the length until JC wants more than quick teases. He pulls Ricky in close and kisses him, licking at the full, sensual mouth. Ricky's lips are just a little chapped, the tiny imperfections creating a pleasant drag against JC's tongue. He opens for JC, mouth hot and slick inside, a sweet taste JC chases round with his tongue, trying to catch.

The wet sounds of their kisses is really fucking hot, and JC moans when Ricky breaks away. He clutches at him, but Ricky shushes him, kneeling up over JC to shuck his t-shirt up over his head. "Not goin' nowhere," he says quietly.

Ricky makes a pretty picture, highlighted against nearly-black sky haloed with the full moon. His skin is mocha-caramel colored, dusky nipples pulled up into tight points. JC reaches up and runs his fingers over them, pulling gently until Ricky hisses. He strokes downward then over ripped abs and flat stomach to cup his hand around the erection pushing against worn, tight denim. Ricky shifts forward and JC laughs low, griping as best he and then rubbing, letting the jeans provide most of the friction.

"Packin' pretty good, cat," JC says, shifting himself up into a sitting position. He pulls his shirt up over his head, wondering with the half of his brain still working if they're really going to do this out here on the beach, where God and anyone could see them.

"You too," Ricky growls -- honest-to-god _growls_ \-- moving into a rhythm, hips snapping forward as JC takes hold again, jacking Ricky through his jeans. "Might get sand in some uncomfortable places if we do this out here." His smile is a little more like teeth bared now than a grin of amusement, and JC shivers when a little thrill of danger ripples through him. He doesn't think Ricky's dangerous per se, but he's more danger, more excitement than JC's had in a while.

"Might not be able to wait to get somewhere more comfortable," he counters, reaching up to pop the top button through its hole. The next couple come undone easily, worn denim giving way to Ricky's hard dick.

He's commando beneath the jeans and JC laughs, delighted with one less layer to have to deal with. He's also uncut, foreskin beginning to pull back from the thick, swollen head. There's a fine sheen of sticky-slick moisture pearling up and spreading over velvety soft skin and JC wants to taste it so bad it's a physical ache.

"Let me," he breathes, already leaning forward. Ricky nods and moves, spreading his thighs wider for better balance. It's an awkward position but JC's sucked dick from worse, and god, he wants this.

Up this close Ricky smells warm and musky, a rich scent that fills JC's head and makes him dizzy, arousal rising fast like the tide. The first taste is salty and a little bitter, and he licks all around the head and down the shaft, groaning when Ricky threads his fingers through JC's hair.

"Fuck, Guapo, suck it. Don't lick me, man. You got a pretty, cock-sucking mouth, so use it."

JC's stomach flips, heat spreading all through him and he swallows Ricky down until the tip is nudging against the back of his throat. So big, the guy's fucking hung, and JC wants it all. Down his throat, up his ass, in his hands. He reaches out and into Ricky's jeans, ruffles the hair prickling over Ricky's thighs before rubbing up and back behind his balls. Ricky hisses and moves forward, guiding JC's head until the rhythm is fast, hard, each stroke cutting off JC's air briefly, making everything go a little spotty.

Ricky comes with a long, low groan that vibrates down into JC's bones and he swallows fast, trying to get every drop Ricky's offering up. It's saltybitter, spreading over JC's tongue, and his own excitement rises, his dick throbbing where it's trapped against his pants. He's panting when he pulls off Ricky, licking at the softening cock as it slides from his mouth. Ricky hauls JC up against him and kisses him hard, licking into JC's mouth like he's chasing his own come. JC grabs at Ricky's hands, almost frantic to get off, and whimpers into the kiss when the buttons are popped on his jeans and solid heat closes over him, gripping his dick.

"I'll blow you later," Ricky whispers against JC's mouth, and he nods, mumbles, something. Later is good, yes, just get him off _now_, before he loses his mind.

It doesn't take long, with Ricky's hand hot and holding him just right, jacking him fast and hard. JC grips his shoulders, fingers digging in hard enough he wonders if there'll be purple-red bruises to kiss and lick, later. Then he can't think at all because he's coming, spine bowing with the pressure, heat spiraling through him thick, hot, like the Florida sun melted down and poured into his veins.

Ricky jacks him through each spasm then licks his fingers clean, sucking on each one lewdly enough that JC's half ready to go again by the time he's finished. He sighs when Ricky kisses him again, sharing the taste with him.

Afterward they flop back onto the beach and stare at the sky until both of them are breathing regularly again. JC turns his head to look at Ricky and laughs at the heavy-lidded look. "You look ready for bed. Sleep," he clarifies, when Ricky arches an eyebrow.

"I could sleep," he says, mouth crooking in a half-smile. "Or I could fuck you. Which one you like better?"

"Jesus," JC mutters, resisting the urge to rub his still-sensitive dick.

"My bike's parked up there," Ricky points behind them. "If you got somewhere we could go?"

"Sure, yeah." JC's glad he doesn't have a roomie any more, because no way he'd turn this guy down, even if it meant getting a hotel room for the night. "I don't live too far from here, actually."

"Beach bunny?" Ricky's fingers are almost gentle, tracing over JC's chest. He lingers over JC's nipples, then slides down to skim around his navel.

"Not quite." But JC laughs anyway, because the gentle touches tickle, and he's going to get laid -- again! -- tonight, and Ricky seems to be someone he laughs around. "C'mon, man. Sooner we get goin', the sooner we get there."

~fin~


End file.
